Friendly Face
by x-Athenea-x
Summary: Blake is having a rough day and suddenly he just feels the need to see a friendly face ...


Winter was settling in nicely in the streets of Pittsburgh. A thin layer of snow painted the streets with a fairy tale allure, turning even the most dingy of places into a winter wonderland. The sky was bright blue and the sun shone happily, but not enough to bite through the frost and icy cold. People walked fast and didn't stop to chat as they hurried to the warmth and cosiness of their houses. The streets were nearly deserted, with the exception of one man strolling aimlessly through Liberty Avenue. His name was Blake.

He wore his favourite pair of white washed jeans, blue sweater and his trademark jeans jack, which he hugged tightly in a futile attempt to keep the cold out. He should've dressed warmer, he realised. But then remembered that his winter coat got stolen at the den two days ago. He looked at his watch and noticed he was late for work, again.

He hurried to Woody's, where he occasionally worked, off the book. Usually that meant the least appealing jobs, like cleaning the bathrooms, or organising the cluttered and stinky cellar. He hated the job, mostly because the owner was a bit of an ass, but he couldn't afford to quit. He needed the money, desperately, and he had done a lot less appealing things to even consider to let this go. With dread, he sucked in a big gulp of air and courage, slowly let it slip through his pursed lips and finally opened the door to the pub.

"You're late," Carl said. "Again."

"Sorry," Blake responded. "And a good afternoon to you, too" he added, whispering underneath his breath.

"That's two times this week." Carl continued.

"I was ill yesterday" Blake said.

"Not my problem." the owner snidely said, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You need the cash, don't you? Who else is going to pay for your drugs?"

"Yes, I do need the job and I promise I'll be on time. Won't happen again" Blake uttered, doing his very best to suppress a raging anger that was boiling in his chest. "What can I do?"

"You better not be late again, you little shit" Carl threatened. "Or you're out on the streets. Someone puked all over the bathroom floor. Get to it, we open in an hour."

Blake sighed deeply. He just knew it was going to be one of those days.

After 4 hours of work, he was allowed to take his break. He sat down on the chair and noticed his hands were shaking. His joints ached and his stomach was in a knot. He hadn't quite recovered from the bug he had last night and he also knew that he needed _her_ again, Crystal. But first he needed to get paid and suffer through another gruelling 2 hours of work. He took a sip of his water and relished as it quenched his thirst. He suppressed the nagging urge of his addiction and closed his eyes, in a feeble attempt to relax his stressed body. Suddenly, three people entered the crowded pub and his heart sank into his stomach. Emmett, Brian and Michael sat down at the bar and were talking about something. He couldn't quite hear what they were saying but judging by the big smiles on their faces and the laughter that occasionally erupted from that table, it had to have been about something happy. He noticed Brian occasionally touching Michael's shoulder or kissing him on the lips. Or Emmett giving Michael a hug. Just little things, little touches. You could tell they were good friends. He watched them for a while, silently from the dark corner where he was sitting. He noticed a few tears rolling down his cheek. He swiftly wiped them off with the back of hands.

"Get a grip" he thought to himself. "It must be nice though … to be accepted into a group. To have someone … anyone you could call when you're having an off day. Just to have someone to give you a hug when you're feeling …" he sighed deeply. He yearned for something he had not received in a very long time. Contact, intimacy, knowing that somewhere someone cared about you. Knowing that in this shitty place, at least one person was happy to see you. Or just having one person that saw the good in you. Just … someone to be there that didn't constantly make him feel like he was scum. He looked at the friends and wished that one day, he could find someone to belong to. Then perhaps the darkness might not be so dark. Angrily he pushed that thought away to the back of his mind. He'd been wishing that for years and it has not come true yet. Well, there's _him_, but deep down, Blake knew that it wouldn't last. "Ted is too good, too sweet and too kind. At some point, Ted would see the real me, and then, he'll leave too. Just like the rest of them."

He got up and regretted the moment because he had to get back to his shitty job. This time, the back alley needed clearing because Carl was expecting deliveries that night. "Onwards with the job" he grimly thought. He glanced at the trio one more time and fiercely wished that he could feel like they felt. Safe and wanted. "Is it too much to ask?" Blake thought. "To have just one person to give a shit?" Then he thought of the strings of recent mistakes he's made, all due to being high, due to his one weakness. "Perhaps it is"

He carried on through the hours, with an empty feeling in his soul. He missed something, a spark, a fire. Something that he used to have a long time ago but he had lost through the struggles. He suppressed the feeling of shame, guilt, anger and sadness and carried on working. Because after all, what choice did he have? If he lost this job, he wouldn't even have a roof over his head.

After having cleared the alley, he dragged his sore and tired feet back to bar. He was greeted by a sour looking Carl, no surprise there, and despite feeling like low, he turned on his charming smile. "All done, Carl. Anything else I can do?"

"No," Carl huffed. "Come back tomorrow and you can do the rest then."

Blake nodded. He noticed a familiar looking scarf on the bar. The same one Emmett had been wearing a few hours previously. He took the scarf, unnoticed by his boss, and wore it around his neck, as if it was his. He swallowed the knot in his throat and said "Any chance I could …"

"No," Carl declared. "Tomorrow."

Blake felt his throat close up. "Please?" he pleaded, giving Carl his nicest smile. "I kind of need to …"

"You need to get out of my sight, kid." Carl barked. "You've been late twice this week so you're making up for lost time tomorrow. When you've reached the 25 hours you need to do, you'll get paid, now piss off."

"It's just that I need …" Blake started.

"You need crack, I know. Deal with it. Go whore yourself out like you usually do. I'm sure someone will pay for your services."

Blake's smile wavered as he turned away from the bar towards the exit. "I need money for food" he whispered to no one.

Outside he checked his wallet and noticed he had 5 dollars on him. Just enough for a sandwich. He sighed and felt that familiar pressure in his chest. That feeling where you try to hold back your grief all day and then at night, the pressure built up too much and it was escaping any way it could. He balled his hands into fists and tried to breathe deeply, only to realise any attempt to steady his nerves was in vain. In a flash he saw a phone booth in the periphery of his eyesight. He ran to it, closed the door behind him and stared at the phone in front of him.

He had two choices. Either he used his last 5 dollars to buy a small dinner, or he could use it to make a phone call. The choice was easily made.

His fingers quickly dialled a number he'd memorized. As the dial tone went, his heart raced.

"Hello?" a voice said on the other end of the line. "This is Ted Schmidt"

"Hey," Blake said, in a voice barely resembling his own. "It's me … uhm …"

"Blake." Ted said. "This is a surprise. I didn't know you had my number"

"You have it to the nurse that time when I was at the hospital. I … memorized it." Blake stuttered. He swore Ted could tell he was blushing just by the tone of his voice. "I don't mean to bother you … it's just that your friends were at Woody's… Michael, Emmett and some other guy. And one of them left his scarf there. I thought it would be best to … return it to the owner."

"Okay," Ted said, his voice serious and stern. "Why didn't you call Michael then? You guys see each other every other day at the gym …"

Blake shut his eyes and let the obvious rejection take over. "I guess I just … I don't know"

"Are you okay?" Ted asked, his voice softening.

"Yeah, fine." Blake answered, his voice croaking. "Look, I'm not going to make it to the gym this week so do you mind if I just come round to give you the scarf?"

"Yeah sure," Ted said, his voice unsure. "I have company at 9 though. But you can come now."

"Okay." Blake said. And with a click, the conversation ended. He wistfully checked if there was change in the pocket of the phone, but sadly there was none. "No dinner tonight. But at least I get to see him for a minute."

Blake was lucky Ted lived in walking distance. Within 10 minutes he knocked on Ted's door, nervously awaiting the sound of the knob turning. A few seconds later, a tired looking Ted opened the door and hastily invited him in. "Come in … sorry, am just making dinner and my meat is about to burn."

"Saucy." Blake joked. Ted however was too busy minding his food to have heard the joke. "Here's the scarf." He added, this time a bit more loudly. "I'll put it on the table."

"Okay." Ted said. "Hey, you sure you're alright? You sounded weird on the phone."

"Yeah," Blake replied, nodding his head. "Just recovering from a bug. Spent two days in bed."

"Oh?" Ted said, his eyes shooting up. "I suppose not for fun reasons."

"No," Blake hastily said. He came closer to the kitchen and just watched Ted cook. "Add a little vinegar and sugar to the peppers." He added. "It makes them sweet and sour, you'd like that."

Ted laughed heartily. "You just can't help it, can you? You know you should try for a job in a restaurant."

Blake laughed. "Yeah, maybe." Inside he knew he would never be good enough to get a job like that. "Wait, you're being to hard on the meat."

Blake immediately walked over to Ted, took the fork from his hand and worked on the meat in the pan. "The trick is to let the meat breathe. Or else it'll just be a bit too tough to be good. If you have the money to buy quality meat, you should treat it better to get the most out of it."

Ted laughed. "Okay, chef. If you say so."

Blake smiled along. He was surprised at how easily Ted managed to make him laugh.

"So," Ted said. "Are you going to tell me the real reason why you're here?"

"What do you mean?" Blake responded innocently.

"Come on, Blake. I know you better than that. The guys go there every night. So Emmett could've just picked up his scarf tomorrow. It wouldn't have been the first time he forgot something at Woody's."

"Oh," Blake said. "I just thought that he might need it …" his eyes stayed firmly fixated on the meat, still sizzling away in the pan. "You know, not that it's cold."

Ted lifted Blake's head and forced him to look at him. "Tell me."

Blake glanced in his eyes, quickly, before averting them. "I was feeling like shit and I guess I … I know I have no right to burden you with my shit, but I suppose I just needed … I don't know…"

"To see a friendly face?" Ted said, more a statement than a question. His face was highlighted by that typical kind smile of his. "I get it."

Blake let go of a breath he did not know he was holding in. "Thanks."

"Tell me … what's wrong?"

Blake returned his gaze to the meat and continued to nurture it. He quickly seasoned the veggies and lowered the heat. "Oh, my boss is a bit of an ass and I've been struggling with this stomach bug or something."

Suddenly he felt Ted's hand wipe away a single tear. He hadn't even realised he'd been crying.

"What's _wrong_, Blake?"

Against his will, his eyes were drawn to Ted's, as if he was being hypnotized. "I … am alone in the world. I have no one. I'm on my own. There's nothing and no one out there for me."

"Come on," Ted said cheerfully. "You have plenty of friends."

An awkward silence crept between them, revealing a painful truth.

"I know people." Blake silently added. "But friends …" the words hung in there for a second, before Blake quickly changed topic. "Anyway, your dinner is ready … and I've already taken up too much of your time. If you add a bit of oregano to your veggies, they'll taste even nicer. But I don't know if you have that" he said with a goofy grin. "Thanks for … the talk."

Ted nodded. "If you want to join me for dinner, there's plenty. Emmett is coming over in a while but I'm sure he wouldn't mind you joining."

"No," Blake softly said. "It's okay. I'm alright. Am tired after working and you know, you've got plans… I don't want to interrupt your evening. Honestly, the scarf … glad to see it returned to Emmett."

He slowly walked back to the door until a hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. "You've got me." Ted simply said. "I know things haven't been easy. But I'm here … whenever you need a friendly face." His eyes were earnest and pierced through Blake's soul like blades. "And don't forget to have a hot drink before bed." He added with a smile.

Blake simply looked at him and gave Ted half a smile. Suddenly the empty feeling in his chest felt lighter, just a tiny little bit.


End file.
